


pour some sugar on me

by dazedlight (opinionoutpost)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Dry Humping, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Lap Dances, M/M, Stripping, except not really, malum, stripper!calum, yup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 17:59:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4715288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opinionoutpost/pseuds/dazedlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'"I'm gonna shove you out of this chair if you don't shut up."</p>
<p>Calum wraps his arms tight around his neck, pressing their chests together, and clings. "Don't be mean. I just gave you an orgasm."'</p>
<p>Because Calum would be a great stripper if he wasn't such a dweeb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pour some sugar on me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daisyinthewind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyinthewind/gifts).



> this should really be titled " [giulia](http://lilac-eye.tumblr.com/) and i got carried away talking about calum's back and it made me want to write about calum stripping so then i did the thing" but that would be too long

"Calum would be a good stripper," Luke muses one night when they're tucked back on the bus, still fairly buzzed from the evening's festivities. Michael looks at him and giggles, Luke peeking at him.

"It's true. He's got good rhythm, right?"

"So does Ashton - that doesn't mean he'd be a good stripper."

"You would be a good stripper," Luke says again and ignores Michael, this time directing it at Calum, who's flicking through his phone, leaned up against the door way. The dim lighting of the back lounge is unflattering, but it catches on Calum's lashes, throwing spidery shadows across his cheekbones, and Michael's staring. But he stares at his bandmates all the time so it's not weird.

"Hm?" Calum says and glances at them, Luke sprawled out and taking up most of the couch with Michael wedged into the remaining corner, Luke's head on his leg.

"You'd make a good stripper," he repeats, and Calum laughs.

"What?"

"You would!" Luke protests. He twists his head in Michael's lap and swats his thigh insistently. "Tell him, Mike."

He considers it for a moment before conceding. "You would make a good stripper."

Luke sits up, too fast, and has to steady himself before jabbing a finger at Calum, triumphant. "See?"

Calum laughs again and slips his phone into his pocket, strikes a pose with his hip cocked to the side and one arm behind his head. "Is my hot bod distracting?" he purrs, drawing out the last word obnoxiously.

"Oh, God," goes Michael as Ashton tunes into the conversation in time to see Calum swiveling his hips, both arms behind his head now as he gyrates towards them.

"Calum, no," Ashton laughs but he advances anyway, climbing into Ashton's lap and shimmying in his face. Ashton hiccups out a giggle as he brings his hands up to block his face while he slouches in his seat, head turned to the side. Calum refuses to let up, grinding down into his lap with his head thrown back, arms flailing.

Luke's delirious, squeaking and squirming on the couch, curling his legs to his chest and hugging them to bury his laugh into his knees. 

"Stop, stop!" Luke yells. "I take it back, you'd be awful."

Calum stops moving, hands coming to rest on Ashton's shoulders. "Excuse you, but I think I'm doing a great job," he says and accentuates his point with an obscene hip roll, making Ashton blush and hide his face in his hands.

"You're torturing him," Luke laughs as he lets go of his legs, stretching out once more and letting his legs fall open.

"You know you want a piece of this," Calum says with an exaggerated wink, climbing off of Ashton and tripping over to Luke.

"No!" Luke shrieks and pulls his knees up again, tipping to the side and curling into a ball. Calum continues, undeterred, flopping on top of him and thrusting into Luke's back. They all laugh, Luke tucking himself in tighter and tighter until he barely fits on the narrow couch, and it's then that Calum stops, choosing to just lay on top of him. He peeks up at Michael and grins, winks again, and says, "Next time it's your turn."

* * *

Michael's in a partying mood and the whole band is coming whether they want to or not. He pushes a grumpy Ashton into his jacket while Luke pulls on his shoes and Calum waits at the door, always up for a round and some loud music. They sneak in a back entrance to avoid the photographers out front, and Michael orders two rounds of shots once they get close to the bar, downing them one after the other with a grimace in between. Luke follows suit and so does Calum, Ashton taking one before passing the other off to Luke who swallows it happily.

They order beer to ease the burn and keep ordering shots until the flashing lights blur. Michael has one of those dopey permanent smiles on his face and Luke's shirt is half undone, meaning they're both well on there way to getting shit-faced. Ashton's quiet in the corner of their booth, not upset but just not up for socializing extensively tonight. He gives Michael a smile when he catches him looking before returning to his crowd-watching, head bopping to the music. Calum did another round of shots with Michael before melting into the crowd, at the very least dancing but more likely trying to hook up. That makes him want to laugh for some reason, so he does, giggling to himself.

Ashton shifts closer, smiling bemusedly at him. "What's funny, Mike?"

"I don't know. Everything," he says and grins, making Ashton laugh. They talk for a bit until a couple of girls approach them and ask for pictures. Ashton obliges, grinning big for them, and Michael does his best to look as sober as possible. They give them hugs before they totter away, and Michael relaxes back into his seat.

"I'm gonna go find Luke," Ashton says, and Michael looks to his left to find the seat empty. "You wanna look for Calum?"

He nods and stands, a little off kilter, Ashton steadying him.

"You good?" he asks and Michael nods again, brushes him off.

"I'm fine," he says, more-so yelling and Ashton winces before he skulks away to find Luke. Michael scans the dance floor for Calum but only sees bodies moving so he lurches forward, stumbling his way through all the people. It's not a particularly smart plan but it seems like the best one currently so he perseveres, peering too closely at everyone in the dim light. 

"Michael!" someone calls and he spins to see Calum waving erratically at him, his other arm around a girl's waist. She glances at him, annoyed, but he doesn't notice, instead dragging her along as he makes his way to Michael.

"I've been looking for you!" he says, grinning and hugging him. The girl gets kind of caught between them, and Michael steps away quicker than he'd like so she's not uncomfortable. She barely seems to notice him, though, eyes still glued on Calum as she brings her other arm around his middle.

"Don't you want to keep dancing?" she pouts, and it's like Calum finally remembers she's there, nodding enthusiastically at her question. 

"Yes! Let's dance. Do you want to dance, Mikey?"

He shakes his head, and the girl looks grateful. She molds herself into the smooth curve of Calum's body and they sway, Calum's head ducked down to rest against hers. It's kind of weird for Michael, just standing in the center of all these dancing people, watching his best friend grind up on a stranger. He forgets that Calum is actually a decent dancer, his hips working rhythmically. The girl seems to be appreciating it at least, trying to press herself as close to him as she can manage. He thinks they're going to kiss - the girl certainly seems to think so as well - and as she leans in Michael closes his eyes. When he opens them, Calum's twirling the girl away from his body, her hair fanning out and catching the light prettily. She laughs as Calum pulls her back and dips her dramatically, not matching the music but not seeming to care. He spins her once more before tugging her close and whispering something in her ear. She looks put off and smiles tightly before she turns to Michael and says it was nice to meet him. Then she's gone and Calum's slinging an arm around his shoulders, walking them back towards their booth.

"She's not coming back with you?" he asks. "We've got hotel rooms tonight. I can crash with Ash and Luke if you need privacy."

Calum shakes his head. "Got other plans," he says, turning him so Michael's tucked up against his back, chin hooked over his shoulder. His hands rest at his waist and he starts moving them to the beat of the song, an easy, fluid groove that Michael settles into.

"Cal," he says and pats his hands.

"Hm?" Calum hums in his ear. He keeps his hands where they are, slowing their groove so they're mostly just rocking to the music.

"M'tired. Let's go."

"I want to dance with you."

Michael twists out of his hold, turning so they face each other and catching Calum's hands in his own. "We can dance at the hotel, whatever. I'm tired."

Calum pulls him forward, then pushes him out again, repeating the motion until Michael pouts.

"Calum."

He giggles. "Okay, okay. Let's go."

* * *

Calum twirls him awkwardly into their hotel room, laughing as Michael stumbles, still too drunk to handle the room spinning that fast. He slumps into the chair by the desk, his back closer to the seat of the chair than the backrest. He lets his legs fall open, head tipped to the side, mumbling an almost incoherent, "Undress me," to Calum, who ignores him, turning on some music and still dancing.

"Calum," he whines, flicking a foot at him. "Help me."

He sways over to where he's seated, crouching down to untie his shoes so Michael can toe them off. "Sit up," he tells him, and Michael does, with great effort, and Calum helps him out of his jacket. "Better?" he says as Michael relaxes back into the chair.

"Mhm," he mumbles, eyes slipping closed.

Calum swats him. "Hey, you said we'd dance."

"You can dance," Michael mumbles. "I'll watch. With my eyes closed."

Calum punches him. "Come on, Mikey."

He peeks an eye open. "You can strip for me," he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows. "That'll keep my eyes open."

Calum laughs, and the music changes to something with a slower beat, a song Michael doesn't know. Calum gets into it, trying to make eye contact as he saunters toward Michael. He can't hold his eye, though, flicking them away after a moment until he gets to the chair, placing his hands on either side of Michael, bracketing him in.

"Hey, babe," he mutters huskily, going for sensual Michael assumes, but it's ruined when he breaks into a smile, dropping his gaze and his head.

"Shut up and give me a lap dance," he says with a snort, laughing harder when Calum body rolls his chest into his face. "This doesn't work without boobs."

"Well, I'm not going to thrust my dick into your face," he huffs, and Michael laughs.

"Isn't that, like, what male strippers do, though?"

"Have a lot of experience with male strippers, do you?"

"Shut up, you went and saw both Magic Mike movies too."

"I want to be as jacked as Channing Tatum."

Michael laughs. "You don't."

"No, I don't, but the lad's got abs."

"You've got nice abs," Michael reasons as Calum clambers into his lap, gripping the back of the chair for support. 

"Thanks, buddy."

"Don't call me buddy while you're grinding on my dick," Michael says and Calum deteriorates, his head falling to Michael's shoulder as he laughs, body shaking. 

"This is weird," he says into Michael's shirt and he shrugs, because it's not like they haven't grinded on each other before, at clubs, in bed, on stage.

"I don't think you're trying hard enough, to be honest. I'm not even turned on."

Calum lifts his head and shifts in his lap, sets his jaw. "I'm not trying hard enough?" he says.

"Nope," Michael replies simply, popping the 'P.'

Calum rises, legs still on either side of him, and narrows his eyes. "You asked for it."

Michael starts to laugh but the noise dies in his throat as Calum pulls his shirt over his head, gripping the hem and sliding it off in one smooth motion, his exposed torso level with Michael's eyes. He rolls his body easily, pushing his toned stomach into Michael's face, and he wants to lick and suck but then Calum's gone, taking a few steps backward. He places his hands on Michael's knees and spreads them before dropping to his own, sliding his hands up Michael's thighs as he nudges closer, fitting nicely between his legs. He ghosts his lips over his crotch before he rolls onto the balls of his feet so he can glide up Michael's stomach, his chest, and just brush his lips against his. He glances up at him for a second before falling to his knees again, his hands creeping to the button of Michael's jeans, which he undoes, followed by his fly.

"Cal-" he stutters, but his hands stop before anything real can happen, Calum instead doing another body roll up his body so that he's in a good position to straddle him once more. He sinks down slowly, running his groin along Michael's stomach until he's seated in his lap again, where he can grind down tortuously. Michael lets his hands rest at Calum's waist and closes his eyes as Calum continues to rock against him. Part of him is registering that this isn't playful anymore, that he's hard, and that he's probably going to ruin his favourite pair of jeans at this rate, but Calum's _good_ and he's fuzzy with both alcohol and lust.

Calum shifts slightly and the friction is maddening, Michael's head falling to Calum's shoulder as he groans out, "Oh, fuck." Calum pauses, and Michael's worried it really is weird now, but then he repeats the motion once, although a little hesitantly.

"Can you-" Michael stutters, "Can you do that again?"

Calum nods meekly and rolls his hips once more, and Michael doesn't know why it feels so amazing but he doesn't really care at this point, a pathetic whimper falling from his mouth. Calum keeps going, picking up his pace, and the whimpers keep coming, almost uncontrollable. He grips Calum's hip tighter with one hand while the other slides up his back. He wishes his fingernails were longer so he could leave marks, keeps running them up and down like he can wear grooves into his skin through the motion alone.

"Calum," he whines, sounding so different from earlier this evening. "You have to stop-"

"Don't you want to come?" Calum manages, his voice strained. "I want to come."

"Fuck," Michael rasps and pulls Calum closer, burying his face into his neck, lips finding the point where his pulse is hammering away and resting them there. Calum works him until Michael thinks he's going to cry, pressure building at the base of his spine before melting away as he releases in his jeans, embarrassed and huffing. 

Michael's still coming down when Calum reaches between the two of them and palms himself, groaning at the pressure, and Michael detaches himself from his neck, pushing them apart. Calum protests but then Michael's undoing his fly and reaching a hand into his jeans, ignoring the thundering of his heart in his ears.

"Michael," Calum starts, but he moves ahead anyway and grips Calum in his hand. 

"Fuck," Calum hisses, the word drawn out. "That's - that's - yeah, okay," he sighs.

Michael's arm starts to cramp, his wrist twisted awkwardly but Calum's panting in his ear, cursing quietly, and that's all the motivation he needs. He works him until he feels his fingers dig into his shoulders, Calum coming apart in his hand with a punched-out grunt as his clenched muscles relax under his touch. 

They slump against each other, spent and breathless. 

"I made you cream your pants," Calum snorts and Michael laughs even as his cheeks colour.

"Shut up."

"I feel powerful."

He laughs again. "Shut _up_."

"I'm serious, Mikey, I feel like I could kill a man right now. You gotta make someone come in their pants one day."

"I just did, idiot. You, like, two seconds ago."

"That doesn't count, you used your hands."

"What?" Michael splutters. "No, that - that totally counts! I'm - I'm gonna shove you out of this chair if you don't shut up."

Calum wraps his arms tight around his neck, pressing their chests together, and clings. "Don't be mean. I just gave you an orgasm."

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr at [peachflush!](http://peachflush.tumblr.com/)


End file.
